An Interesting Proposal
by Frannie1
Summary: George Weasley has a crush on Hermione Granger, but when he acts on it, will her response fulfill his dreams or shatter them? Completed
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I'm not sure if I'll continue writing in this so please review with your comments!** 

George Weasley sat in the Gryffindor common room playing a game of chess with his younger brother. He gazed across the room to where his twin was. Fred was on his feet and making large gestures with his arms. Whatever he was doing must have been pretty funny because Angelina Johnson, who was sitting near him, was laughing so hard she had doubled over. George wondered why he could never make girls laugh like that. 

"George. George!" 

He looked up. "What?" 

His little brother stared at him impatiently. "It's your move." 

"Oh, right." George pondered his next move, while his brother waited, tapping his foot against the floor in an annoying manner. To call Ron little was really very untrue. Ron was actually taller than George by a good three inches. And he wasn't very young either. He was fifteen, two years younger than George, and in the in fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

"Ha!" Ron said when he had made his move. "Checkmate. I win." 

"Sorry I wasn't a challenge today; I'm not really feeling well." George rose from his seat and headed up the stairs. 

He heard Ron call after him, "You're never a challenge." 

"Hey, George." 

He hadn't noticed her before, but a girl was coming down the staircase as he was ascending it. "Hi, Katie." 

Katie Bell, a Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team was standing before him. George had always known her to be a quiet girl despite her aggressive nature when it came to flying. She had long blonde hair of which she either wore down or in a single braid. 

"How are you?" she asked. He shrugged and she continued, "First match of the year is coming up. It'll be weird without Oliver." 

"Yeah, the feathery git won't be there to pressure us anymore," George said, frowning. 

Katie frowned at him with disapproval. "I miss him." 

George's eyebrows went up. "Katie, you don't have a little crush on Oliver, do you?" 

She rolled her eyes. "No." 

He started up the stairs again. 

"Oh, uh, George?" She went up after him. He turned around, giving her a questioning look. "Where are you going?" 

He shrugged. "I was just going to sit in my dormitory, I guess." 

She cast her eyes downward. "Oh, then I suppose you want to be alone." 

"You can come if you want," he offered. "But I won't be very good company." 

Katie followed him into the seventh-year's dormitory. "Why?" 

George stared at her, somewhat surprised. He hadn't expected Katie to think twice about his last comment. "Uh, I'm just feeling a bit depressed." He sighed, recognizing the "out with it" look she was giving him. "All right, if you want to know the truth, I'm starting to get jealous of Fred." 

Once again, to his surprise, Katie laughed. "Jealous of Fred?" she asked. "Why? You've got everything he's got: brains, a great sense of humor, Quidditch skills." 

He stared out the window, looking glum. "If I'm so funny, why can't I make girls laugh like he can?" He sighed again. "I'm just so lonely." 

She put an arm around his shoulders. "Well, if it makes you feel better, you make me laugh." 

He smiled slightly. "So, you'll be my girlfriend?" 

"George, I'd rather be your friend than your girlfriend. You don't need one to be happy." 

"Even _Percy,_ that four-eyed prat, had a girlfriend before his seventh year," George said gloomily. His eyes wandered over to his Cleansweep Five broomstick. "Wanna go for a fly?" 

Katie looked out the window. "It's getting late, and you know we're not allowed out after dark." 

"Don't you ever break the rules?" he asked, eying her suspiciously. 

She shook her head. "Not if I can help it." 

George stood up and grabbed his broom. "Well, I'll see you later then." Hunching his shoulders, he walked out of the room. 

He did his best to avoid the gazes of any teachers and was mostly successful. Little Professor Flitwick stopped him in the hallway to compliment him on an excellent Refreshing Charm he had done in class. Luckily, he didn't question George as to where he was off to with his broomstick in hand. 

By the time he reached the pitch, it was nearly eight o'clock and very dark, though the crescent moon was shining brightly. 

He took to the air, flying a few laps around the goal posts and letting the wind whip through his robes. He checked his watch: eight o'clock. Quickly, he flew to the ground and headed back to the castle. 

He was very fortunate not to run into any teachers for a second time that night - no one had probably even noticed he was missing. As he neared the Gryffindor common room, he bumped into Hermione Granger - in the most literal sense, however. 

"Oh!" Hermione cried, dropping her books. 

"Sorry about that." George grabbed a rather large spell book and handed it to her. "I guess I wasn't paying attention." He smiled sheepishly. 

"That's okay, George," Hermione said cheerfully. There was a broad grin upon her face that was unfamiliar to George. "Nothing could possibly ruin this day." 

George stared at her curiously. "Why's that? What happened?" 

"Well, Professor McGonagall has offered to give me extra lessons for more advanced spells, sixth-year spells." Hermione smiled. "She says I'm so far ahead of all the other students that it would be silly to merely continue with fifth-year lessons." 

George leaned on his broomstick, watching her. She was positively glowing. But there was something different about her. Why hadn't he noticed it before? Hermione was … pretty. She was smart, she was friendly - everything he wanted! "That's great, Hermione, that's really great." He approached the portrait hole and said, "Bertie Bott's. Do you need help with that?" He took a few of her books. 

The door sung open and the two went inside. 

Ron looked up as they came in. "Hi, Hermione. Hi, uh … George." He eyed his brother suspiciously. "What are you two up to?" 

"Oh, we just ran into each other in the corridor," Hermione replied cheerfully. "But I have the best news?" 

"What?" Ron asked. 

"Professor McGonagall is setting up extra Transfigurations classes for me!" she said excitedly. 

"But Hermione, you have the best Transfigurations grades in our class, why would you need extra lessons?" Harry Potter questioned. 

Hermione shook her head, laughing. "That's the point. I'm doing so well that she's giving me _sixth_-year lessons!" She dropped a pile of books on the chessboard. "Here are all the spell books I need. It's so exciting!" 

"Wow." Harry looked at the textbooks. "They're huge! Look at the size of them!" 

"George, did you have books this large last year?" Ron questioned. 

"Yeah, probably," he answered in a flat tone. 

"But you'll still be in class with us, won't you?" Ron asked. He almost looked worried. 

"Yes, Ron, I'll still be there." She shook her head. "You don't need to worry." Hermione gathered up all of her books a second time. "Well, I'm off to bed. A wonderful day of classes on the morrow." She flashed them all a grin and skipped up the stairs. 

"George!" Katie smacked him in the back of the head. 

"Hey!" He rubbed his head furiously. "What was that for?" 

"You were staring," she answered stiffly. 

"So you _hit_ me?" he asked, irritated. 

Katie loosened up. "Actually, I've just always wanted to do that. What's up? You've got a funny look in your eyes." 

"Nothing." George shrugged, said goodnight, and went to his dormitory. He had trouble falling asleep that night because of the fluttery feeling in his stomach. He couldn't get Hermione's image out of his mind, and he was kicking himself for taking so long to notice. Hermione Weasley - no, Hermione Granger-Weasley. She was definitely one of those girls who would want a hyphenated last name. 

~ 

George closed his eyes before splashing some water on his face. "Hermione Granger," he muttered, staring at his reflection. "I must have been mad." The more he thought about their possible relationship, the more impossible it seemed. For one thing, he had completely forgotten about Ron. 

He dried off his face and made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. "Hi, Katie," he said as he sat down. 

She smiled wickedly, watching him eat. 

"Wha'?" he asked with food still in his mouth. 

"Hermione Granger, is it?" she said, still smiling. 

George took a drink from his goblet of orange juice. "What do you mean?" 

"Angelina heard you this morning muttering about her," Katie explained. 

George rubbed his forehead. "Wonderful. I hope you're the only one she told." 

"I think you're safe." Katie looked around. "Why Hermione, George? I mean, I like her and all, but she doesn't seem to be your type." 

He rolled his eyes. "Why what? There _is no Hermione._ I've thought about it and I just don't think it'll work out. It's just not plausible." 

"George, I need your help." 

He jumped when a pile of books was dropped on the table in front of him. 

Katie raised her eyebrows, amused, as George stuttered a few hellos. 

"What's the problem?" George asked the troubled fifth-year. 

Hermione sat down next to him. "I just had an extra Transfigurations lesson and there's something I really don't understand. I didn't say anything to Professor McGonagall because she has such high hopes for me. Can you help me?" 

George nodded. "Of course I will. I mean, what are friends for?" 

Hermione smiled. "Thanks, George." She gulped down a glass of orange juice. "How does this afternoon sound?" 

"I've got Quidditch practice," George said. "But after that, I'm free." 

"Great. Then I'll see you after Quidditch." She grabbed a piece of toast and hurried off. 

"Somehow, Katie," George began, "it seems slightly more plausible now." 

"Don't do anything to get yourself into trouble," she warned him. 

"Oh, come on, you know me," George said. 

"That's kind of the point." 

"I'll be fine," George assured her. "_And_ I'll be a perfect gentleman." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: This is a rather short chapter, I know. But it wasn't an intentional thing to do. To make up for it, I've posted chapters two _and_ three.** 

"Bertie Bott's," George said and walked into the dark common room. "Hermione?" he whispered. He took out his wand. "_Lumos._ Hermione?" 

She was sitting on the couch, with her head resting on an arm and an open book in her lap. George didn't want to wake her, but he thought she might be more comfortable in her own bed. Lightly, he touched her shoulder. "Hermione, wake up." 

Her eyes fluttered open. "George! Did I fall asleep? Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I'm too tired to do any work tonight." She pushed her books aside and stood up. "Thanks for getting me up. I've fallen asleep on this couch before, and it's unpleasant waking up here." She tucked her hair behind her ear. "Sorry if I put you through any inconvenience, George." 

"No, you didn't," he said quickly. 

"Well, I'd better get to bed." Hermione yawned. "Goodnight." 

"G'night," George said. He watched her ascend the staircase to the girls' dormitory, and then went up to his own. Fred and Lee Jordan were still awake playing Exploding Snap. 

"What took you so long?" Fred asked. "The one Quidditch practice we get out a little early and you stay there and fly a few more laps. You're nutters. I mean, when does a chance like this come along? Not often, that's for sure." 

George shrugged. "I just wanted some more fresh air." 

"More?" Fred asked incredulously. "We were there for three and a half hours!" He leaned in more closely. "You weren't having a little rendezvous sub rosa, were you?" 

"Huh?" George put on his best befuddled expression. 

"Oh, come on, you can tell me. It's that Hufflepuff, Emiliana Twain, isn't it?" Fred inquired slyly. 

"Who?" George asked. 

Fred rolled his eyes. "Fine, don't tell me. I thought you trusted me, being your only twin brother." He got up and hopped into his bed, drawing the curtains about him. Lee Jordan did the same. "Goodnight, George," Fred said. 

"What? You're not going to play Snap anymore?" George asked. "Oh, come on. Lee? A quick game?" 

"Goodnight!" Lee shouted. 

"Shh!" somebody hissed. 

"Oh, be quiet," George shot back automatically. Soon the dormitory was engulfed in silence and darkness, and George fell asleep.   
  


Morning came more quickly than he would have liked and he slept right through breakfast. Unfortunately, he had Potions first thing, and Professor Snape did not tolerate tardiness. Nor would he believe any excuses George might make. 

He grabbed his books and ran right past the Great Hall, down to the dungeons. "You could have woken me up," he said to his twin as he made his way to his seat. 

"I'm not your alarm clock," Fred retorted. 

George rolled his eyes and sat down. He didn't want to bother with arguing; class was about to start. 

"Settle down, seventh-years," Snape said loudly, gritting his teeth. "Open your textbooks to the seven-hundred and fifty-first page. There you will find a recipe for a bewitching draught, more commonly known as Thieves' Aid. You have the entire class period to prepare your ingredients, as there are so many. Tomorrow, you will be making the potion, so _do not_ forget your cauldrons." He took a moment to glare at Fred. "It would serve you well to remember it, Mr. Weasley." 

"I will, sir," Fred said. 

"Now. Get to work," Snape snapped. "You're wasting time." 

Katie leaned over as she was mashing her Wolfsbane and whispered, "How did it go last night? I suppose you laid on the old Weasley charm pretty thick." 

George chuckled. "I didn't get the chance, she fell asleep before I got back from practice." 

"Well, you did stay behind for a while," Katie said. 

"Miss Bell, Mr. Weasley, I realize this must be an exceedingly important and vital conversation for you to have in my classroom, but I would appreciate it if you would leave your chatter until after class." Snape eyed each of them in turn. "You're wasting your time and mine. I shouldn't have to reprimand you at this age." He stalked off. 

"Sorry, Professor," they called after him. Katie looked up at George and laughed quietly. "I guess we should get back to work." 

"Well, at _our_ age, he really shouldn't have to reprimand us," George mocked. They both laughed and began mashing their herbs. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: As promised, here is chapter three. Thanks to all the people who have reviewed my story so far.** 

"See you later, Hermione!" George called. 

"Bye!" Hermione smiled. She had never imagined she would find such a good friend in George. He had been helping her with Transfigurations for over three weeks. They didn't meet every day, just two or three times a week. But each day she got to know him better and better. 

"I think that George Weasley fellow is sweet on you, Hermione," Lavender Brown said, taking a seat next to her. 

Hermione looked startled, then amused. "Don't be ridiculous. We're friends, that's all." 

"Oh, that's what they always say," Lavender went on. 

"Well, that's probably because it's always true," Hermione shot back. 

Lavender shook that comment off easily enough and pointed out, "You've been awfully cheerful lately. What's the deal?" 

Hermione shook her head. "I'm happy because of Professor McGonagall's kingly gift. So, if you'd be so kind as to leave me alone, I could get back to my homework." She dipped her quill into the inkbottle and began writing. 

"Fine. I'm sure somebody _else_ will enjoy my company." She stood up and walked away. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. She only looked up from her parchment when Ron sat down next to her. "Did you need something?" 

"No, I just wanted to see if you were okay," he explained. "Are you?" 

"Yes, I'm fine," she replied haughtily. 

"You don't look fine," he pointed out. "Or sound fine, for that matter." Hermione gave him an impatient look. "Don't let Lavender rattle your cage. She doesn't know anything." 

Hermione set down her quill. "I know." She turned to face him. "You didn't hear what she said, did you? Well, she claims that George - _your brother_ - and I _fancy_ each other!" 

Ron laughed and wrapped his arms around her. "Hermione, that's crazy. She's completely crazy." 

"Yeah, she's crazy," Hermione repeated half-heartedly, smiling slightly. 

~ 

"Now, Miss Granger, you may remember Viktor Krum's shark transformation in the second task of last year's Triwizard Tournament," Professor McGonagall said in her delicate Scottish accent. 

Hermione nodded eagerly. "Is that what you're teaching me next?" 

McGonagall nodded. "First I want you to read the three chapters in your text on giving oneself animal-like qualities." She tapped Hermione's spell book lightly with a finger. "That's all for today. I shall see you again on Tuesday." 

Hermione gathered her things and headed toward the door. But before she reached it, she stopped and turned around. "Professor?" 

"Yes?" 

"I feel I'm being dishonest with you," Hermione stated. "In the last chapter we studied … well, something stumped me. I wasn't quite able to turn the platter of scones into birds and the platter into a birdbath." McGonagall stared at her, but said nothing. "So, I got a little help." She sighed and went on sadly, "That's how I was able to do it for the exam." 

Professor McGonagall smiled. "You know, Miss Granger, it is all right to ask for help once in a while. I'm just wondering why you didn't come to me with your questions." 

"You just have such high expectations and hopes for me - I … I didn't want to let you down," Hermione answer, finally looking up at the professor. 

"Now, now, my expectations for you are no higher than the other students'," McGonagall corrected her. "As for my hopes, of _course_ I have high hopes for you." She put a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder. "You are an excellent student and you'll go on to be an excellent teacher." 

Hermione's eyes widened. "T-teacher! No, I could never be a teacher, Professor. I've never even considered it!" 

McGonagall nodded. "Well, now maybe you will." 

Hermione smiled. "Thank you, Professor. You have no idea how much all of this means to me." She headed for the door again. 

"Ah, Miss Granger, who was it that you asked for help?" McGonagall inquired. 

"George," Hermione replied. "George Weasley, that is." 

"Thank you." 


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Thanks to all who've reviewed. This chapter's a bit longer than the other two, which I was very happy with. Thanks again.** 

"All right, here we are at the first match of the season," Gryffindor's team captain and Keeper said. "I know that you're all feeling a bit bummed about Oliver not being here --" 

"Bummed isn't the word I was thinking of," Fred interrupted. 

"No, more like _ecstatic,"_ George said. The captain glared at him. "Sorry, Will." 

Wilma Shakespeare crossed her arms, looking at the twins disappointedly. Then she turned to the rest of the team with a grin. "Now, if we win, great, if we lose, that's okay too. It doesn't matter." 

"Yes it does!" Alicia Spinnet protested. "We can't lose to Hufflepuff, they're the worst team in the whole school!" 

"Alicia has a point," Katie said. 

George nodded and glanced toward the castle. A man was marching down to the pitch, more specifically, the team rooms. He looked to be wearing some sort of uniform: blue and white. They might have been Quidditch robes, but George couldn't tell. 

He turned to Harry as the Seeker was saying, "We couldn't have found a captain more unlike Oliver." 

"All right, are we ready?" Wilma asked. "I think Madam Hooch is just about to blow the whistle." 

Then, as Wilma had predicted, they heard the piercing noise of a whistle being blown. Quickly, they went out onto the pitch and the game began. 

George found himself constantly darting from one end of the field to the other. The Bludgers seemed to have become a bit stir-crazy locked up in that box all summer. Either that, or McGonagall wanted to make her Beaters work harder this season. 

He rounded the goalpost and knocked a Bludger away from Angelina as she carried the Quaffle to the other end of the pitch. He noticed the man in blue again. It wasn't because George was _looking_ for him, but the man's outfit stood out amongst the Gryffindors' red and gold. 

"Weasley! Whichever one you are! Over here!" George didn't need to look. He would recognize that voice anywhere. But of course he did look. He turned his broomstick around and flew over. "Oliver, what are you doing here? I'm trying to _win_ a game, not _lose_ it! Though if we did, our cap --" 

"Weasley, look out!" 

~ 

"George, can you see me?" Fred asked. He waved his hand over his brother's face. 

When his vision came into focus, George said slowly, "It was a Bludger?" 

"Yes," Katie replied. 

"If that _git_ hadn't _distracted_ me ---" George began. 

"Oh, sorry about that, George," Oliver Wood said. "I tried to warn you about it. Trust me, if I would've had a club, I would have knocked that ball straight out of the way." 

"When I get out of here, Wood, and when I have the use of both my arms and my right eye, I am going to _kill_ you," George threatened, trying to sit up. 

"George, calm down." Katie pushed him back. 

"Maybe I should go," Oliver said uncertainly. 

Angelina nodded and led him, Wilma, Harry, and Alicia out. "You'll be okay, right?" 

"We'll be fine," Fred responded. "Just get Oliver as far away from him as you can." Quickly, they all walked out, leaving Fred and Katie alone with George. "Oh, calm down, would you?" 

"I can't. The man is a maniac," George justified. "He knows there are two mad Bludgers flying around! I'm a Beater; my job is to keep those things away. I ---" 

"George?" Hermione stepped into the room. "This is probably a bad time and you most likely don't feel like talking, but I wanted to see how you were." 

"He'll live," Katie said, smiling. 

"Oh, well, that's good." Hermione started backing out. "I'll tell Ron, he was wondering. Ah, bye." She hurried out. 

"Oooh," Fred said. "George and Hermione sitting in a tree ---" 

"Oh, grow up, Fred," Katie said, her tone making it obvious how irritated she was. 

George could tell his face was bright red. It was one of the plagues of the Weasley's. He pulled the sheet over his head. 

"Suck it up," he heard his brother say. "It's not all that bad. See you later." Then there were footsteps. 

"You know, George, it wasn't completely Oliver's fault." Katie was still there. He didn't say anything. "He shouldn't have distracted you, you have a point, but it was your choice to respond. I think you should give Oliver a break. He was just trying to support Gryffindor." 

"You know, Katie, I really don't want to talk to anyone right now, especially someone who's so sympathetic to the man that nearly caused my death," George snapped. Again, he heard receding footsteps. When he could no longer hear them, he removed the sheet and sat up. Oliver nearly causing his death was a bit of an exaggeration and George knew that. He was angry … possibly unreasonably so, but that was another thing the Weasleys were plagued with: a temper. When he heard another pair of footsteps, he threw the cover over his head again. 

"Mr. Weasley." It was Professor McGonagall. "Mr. Weasley, take that ridiculous thing off your head." 

George looked up at her and said weakly, "Peek-a-boo." 

"How do you feel?" she asked without much genuine concern. 

"Not so good," he replied truthfully. 

"Miss Granger informed me of the aid you gave her. That was a very kind thing to do for her. I'm sure she's grateful." McGonagall adjusted her glasses. "Five points will be awarded to you - mostly because it's so unlike you." 

"Thanks, Professor." 

"You'll be in class on Monday, I hope?" George nodded. "Good." She left and George went back to sulking. 

~ 

"Puddlemere United," George muttered. He started moving and walked straight into the portrait. 

"Speak up, dearie," said the Fat Lady. "I can't hear you when you don't speak clearly." 

"Pud-dle-mere U-nit-ed," he said, enunciating each syllable. "Got that?" The door swung open. Slowly, he shuffled in; but he stopped when he heard his name. 

"Why is he acting like this?" he heard Katie ask. She sniffled. 

"Who, George?" Fred questioned. 

"Yes!" she said, sounding exasperated. 

"Well, y'know, it's that time of the month." Fred laughed and said, "Sorry, I'm sorry," at Katie's furious look. "I don't know, did he say anything to you?" 

Katie waited a moment, pondering something. "Well, he did mention one thing … a couple of weeks ago. He said he was jealous of you." 

George's jaw dropped. How could she tell him that? He had told her that in complete and utter confidence. That was the last time he'd tell _her_ anything in secret. He had to stop this right now, before anything else was revealed. 

"Hey, guys," he said cheerfully. 

Fred and Katie exchanged quick nervous looks. Then Fred said, "Hi, George. How're you feeling?" 

"Fine." He grinned. "Anyone for a game of Exploding Snap? Chess? Anyone? No?" He sat down and looked up at them. "So, did Oliver say why he came?" 

Fred shrugged and watched as Katie abruptly stood up and left for her dormitory. "He didn't say. Say, George, word's been floating around that you're jealous of me." 

George laughed. "Don't you remember?" he asked. 

Fred gave him a questioning look. "Remember? Remember what?" 

"That little prank we played." George shook his head. "I can't believe you don't remember. It was the first week of school. We were sitting around the common room and I said really loud, 'Goodness, I wish I was more like Fred. He's got all those muscles and he's so brave. I'm just _so jealous_ of him!' Do you remember now?" 

"Oh, yes, now I remember!" Fred exclaimed. 

George raised an eyebrow. "You do? I mean, you do!" 

Fred nodded. "And then I said, quit now, because you're lying through your teeth and everyone within a mile can tell." 

"Look, I said that nearly four weeks ago. I'm not jealous now and I never really was," George admitted. "All right, I was a _little_ jealous. But people like you better, you know that! They think you're funnier or better looking, or whatever. Take girls, for example. You've always been a lot more comfortable with dating - I can never think of anything to say to them." He lowered his voice slightly. "I mean, I have been working my arse off just to get Hermione to look at me in a different light." He put his face in his hands, realizing what he had just said. "Oh, God, _why_ can't I keep my mouth shut?" 

Quickly, Hermione (who had been listening a good deal too long) slipped back into her dormitory. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Thanks again to all who have reviewed. This is another short chapter (noticing a trend?). I wrote it fairly quickly--I was inspired after having just watched The Chamber of Secrets.** 

"Hermione." 

She jumped about a foot from her chair. 

Harry took off his glasses and cleaned them of dust and grit. "You've been a bit jumpy lately. 

Hermione laughed a bit nervously. "Jumpy? Who's jumpy? I'm not jumpy." She exhaled and pushed her bangs out of her face with a shaky hand. 

"Ron's worried about you," Harry said. "So worried that he came to me. Usually he keeps his girl troubles to himself." He laughed. 

"Um, actually, Harry-not to put you off or anything-I'm kind of busy," she said, not looking up at him. 

Harry shrugged. "Y'know, that's what George said too." 

"George?" she asked incredulously. She nearly stood up, and then lowered herself back down calmly. 

Harry couldn't help but laugh at the confusion her outburst caused him. "Hermione, what's going on? You can tell me. I promise, I won't repeat anything you said to anyone else." 

She looked up at him, biting her lip. "All right. You promise?" 

Harry nodded and she pulled him out of the room. Before he knew it, they were bolting down the corridor, heading towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. After he had caught his breath, he asked, "Why here?" 

Hermione paced back and forth in front of the sinks nervously. "Harry. I think I possess romantic feelings for George Weasley." 

He looked at her, stunned, unable to form any words. 

"Oh, Harry, you can't tell anyone, _especially Ron_-you promised!" she pleaded frantically, clutching his hands. 

"Okay! Okay! I won't!" he said loudly, trying to pull away from her. "Hermione, I won't say anything!" Harry looked at her seriously, watching her frightened, glistening eyes. He smiled and said, "Don't cry." 

She wiped her eyes dry. "I don't know what to do. I mean, what will Ron think. He'll hate me-I won't be able to deal with that again." She sat down on the floor and cupped her face in her hands. 

Harry thought a moment. "You have to tell him. It'll be worse if you don't. Ron will understand-he has to." He offered her his hand. "C'mon, let's go to dinner. You need it." 

Hermione took his hand and they walked down to the Great Hall together. She spotted Ron immediately and pulled him away from the table. He smiled his boyish smile at her as she tried to think of the words to tell him. "Ron…um, you're not going to enjoy hearing this, but-but I have to tell you." 

Ron shook his head good-naturedly. "You know you can tell me anything, Hermione." 

She swallowed. "I have romantic feelings for your brother-for George," she said as quickly as she could. 

His face fell. "Oh." He started to walk away, but then he turned around to face her again. "Is this some kind of joke?" Hermione shook her head. Ron looked at her, disgusted, and left the Great Hall, pushing past anyone in his path. 

Hermione covered her face with her hands. Unable to think of anything better to do, she rushed out of the Hall. 

George saw her, quickly said to Fred, "I'll see you later," and followed her out. "Hermione!" he called. 

"Oh, no," she muttered. She dried her eyes with the sleeves of her robes and turned around. As he drew near, he slowed and stopped. "Hello, George." 

"Are you all right?" he asked. "You looked pretty upset when you ran out of there." 

"No," she said, "I'm fine." 

"You don't look fine," George observed. 

"_Why_ does everyone keep saying that?" she shouted. 

Ron heard her voice and stopped when he saw whose body it belonged to. He stamped his foot angrily and asked, "Oh, so now I bet you're planning the wedding. Well, let me know how the children turn out!" 

A horrified look passed onto Hermione's face. She whirled around. "_Ron_!" 

George stared at the two of them, befuddled. "Uh, what's going on?" 

Ron rolled his eyes. "Don't give me that innocent garbage. _You_ know what's going on. And so do I. I know all about your secret love affair." 

George couldn't help but think how nice that would be. But he quickly removed the thought from his head and wiped the ridiculous smile from his face. "I'm sorry, I'm still not following. Since when are me and Hermione having a love affair?" 

"We're _not_," Hermione interjected. Suddenly she wished she had never consulted Harry. He didn't know what he was talking about anyway. "Ron, please calm down." 

"You two probably planned your lines together!" Ron went on. "I bet you did this one, George: 'I have romantic feelings for your brother.' Was that yours, George?" He shook his head angrily. "Hermione, you can just leave me alone from now on. And I hope you _fail_ your O.W.L.s!" 

Hermione stared after him furiously. 

"Uh, Hermione?" George spoke up. "What's going on?" 

She sighed. "Just what he said." She wouldn't face him, but remained with her back turned towards him. "I heard you in the common room a few weeks ago." 

George's eyes widened. "Oh." He felt his face turning red and he was glad she wasn't looking at him. 

"The more I thought about it, the more sense it made to me," she said. "Why couldn't we have something?" Hermione turned around. "I do love Ron-dearly-but only as a friend. He doesn't understand. I mean, I _did_ want to be with him, but not as much as he wanted it." She paused. "That's not to say he forced me to be his girlfriend. That's just silly." She smiled to herself. "Ron's too sweet and sensitive to ever do something like that." 

George just stood there, listening intently. When he thought she was finished, he said quietly, "Hermione, I'm having second thoughts about our-" he laughed, "-secret affair." 

She smiled sadly at him. "I am too. I'm sorry, George. I didn't mean to put you through all this-you didn't deserve it." She kissed his cheek and hugged him. "You're a good friend." 

George hugged his elbows, watching her walk away. "Yeah." He walked back to his dormitory, wanting to crawl under a rock where no one could find him. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, guys. I actually forgot that I was in the middle of writing anything and I'd kind of dug myself a hole. Luckily, I got myself out of it. The next couple of chapters will be up soon, as I've already finished them.** 

"I want to see you all at four tomorrow, instead of five!" Wilma shouted. "Remember, practice makes perfect!" 

"She's getting more and more like Oliver every day," Fred muttered to his brother, who laughed. 

"George, over here a moment!" Wilma called. "I need a word!" 

He sauntered over to her, resting his broomstick on his shoulder. "Look, I know I wasn't playing my best today, but trust me, I'll be ready for the game--" 

"No, it's not that," she said. "I don't think you should come to any practices for a while." 

He stared at her questioningly. "You're not kicking me off the team, are you?" he asked rather worriedly. 

Wilma shook her head. "No, don't be silly, George. I just think it would be best if you didn't play for a while. It might," she began, pausing a moment to search for the right words, "worsen your condition." 

"My what?" he inquired. 

"Your emotional state right now is very unstable," she explained. 

"Are you mad?" George asked seriously. 

Wilma crossed her arms. "George, don't be difficult. I talked to Professor McGonagall and she quite agrees. Until further notice, I don't want you on the pitch for any reason while this team is practicing." 

"You can't have a team with only _one_ Beater!" George protested. "We'll lose!" 

"I have that all taken care of," Wilma stated. 

George shook his head. "I can't believe you, Will." 

"Now, now, we'll manage just fine without you," she said happily. "Besides, you need the break. If you ask me, we could all use a bit of a Quidditch vacation." George mounted his broom. "Where're you going? Aren't you going to walk back with me?" 

"No!" he called, taking to the air. He flew all the way to Gryffindor Tower and went straight through the open window, not bothering to use any sort of door. He dropped his broomstick and asked Neville Longbottom, who was doing some Potions homework, "Where's Ron?" 

Neville looked up. "I think he's in our dormitory. At least he was when I left him." 

George nodded and started up the stairs. He'd go in there and say, 'I'm sorry for ruining whatever you and Hermione had together. That wasn't my intention at all. Since you're my brother, I hope you can forgive me.' Yeah, that would never work with Ron. He opened the door, not even thinking to knock. "Ron, are you in h--?" he managed to get out, before nearly falling back with shock. 

Ron and Hermione, who had been kissing quite passionately, jumped apart. Ron, of course, turned beet red, while Hermione's cheeks turned a pale pink. She stared at Ron nervously, not knowing what to say. 

"Well," George said uncertainly, "I guess you've made out--I mean, made up." He fled the room as quickly as possible. Once again, he sought out the solitude of the lake. He had gone there the last time Hermione had broken his heart. 

George threw a rock into the water and watched the tiny ripples as they neared him. "What do I do now?" he asked himself. "No Quidditch, no Hermione, no real friends. If they were, they'd be here." Then he reminded himself the reason he was out there was to be alone. He shut his eyes and rested his head on the tree behind him. For no real reason at all, he started thinking about the end of school. What would he do after Hogwarts? He had never really even thought about it. Well, he and Fred had talked about the joke shop, but he had assumed that neither of them really believed that would ever happen. There was always the Ministry of Magic. Though George didn't fancy himself sitting behind a desk all day like Percy did, or chasing down wizards with a thirst for enchanting Muggle artifacts like his father did. "Well," he'd continue to tell himself, "that's a long way off. I've got plenty of time. For everything," he added. 

~ 

"George, are you coming to the game?" Katie asked him a week later. "We'd really love to see you there." 

He shook his head. "I don't know, I'm pretty emotionally unstable right now," he replied. "For your safety, you might want to remain ten feet away at all times." 

She laughed softly. "You're such an idiot." She stood up. "Remember, I want to look up into the stands and see your smiling face." 

"_You_?" he asked. "Before you said, '_we_.'" 

"So?" she shrugged. 

"I knew you couldn't resist my charm," he said. "Don't fight it any longer, Katie, you love me." 

Katie shook her head. "I see you're back to your old self again." He laughed. "See you later, George." 

He waved and she left with the rest of the team. He wasn't sure yet if he would go or not. He wasn't by any means emotionally unstable, but he certainly wasn't feeling like his 'old self.' Besides that, Quidditch wasn't nearly as fun to watch as it was to play. 

George took out his homework and started working on it. But as hard as he tried, he couldn't focus on it at all. He happened to look up and saw Hermione quietly making her way out of the tower. "You don't have to sneak out," he said to her. 

Hermione stopped and looked at him. "I didn't want you to see me after…well, you know." 

He nodded. "It's okay. I would've done the same thing. Only, not to Ron," he added quickly. "That would be disgusting." He laughed a little, but she didn't. 

"I'm sorry, George," she said sadly. "You've been through a lot this year--and your last year at Hogwarts, too. It must be rotten. And _I'm_ part of the problem. That's why I've been trying to avoid you--I didn't want to make you feel worse." 

"I already feel bad enough," George admitted. "Trust me, it couldn't get much worse." He paused, trying to think of something else to say. "So, are you off to the Quidditch match?" 

Hermione nodded. "Shouldn't you already be there?" 

"Oh, you haven't heard," George said disappointedly. "I've been temporarily suspended." 

"Why?" Hermione asked incredulously. 

"Apparently I have a chemical imbalance," George replied. "So says Will Shakespeare." 

Hermione laughed a little. "No, George, I don't think William Shakespeare ever said a thing like that." 

"Not that Shakespeare," George said. "Gryffindor's captain, Wilma." 

"You call her Will?" she inquired. 

"Yeah." He stared at her confused face. "Oh, dear, it must be that imbalance again. I guess I _am_ emotionally unstable after all." He glanced at the door. "Well, you'd better go. Otherwise you'll be late." 

Hermione nodded. "Are you sure you don't want to come? You can tag along with Ron and I." 

George shook his head. "No, thanks. I've got work to do anyway." She waved. "Have a good time. Bye." _Tag along?_ he thought to himself. _Now,_ I'm _the third wheel? This isn't right at all._ "Nothing is right," he heard himself say aloud. Everybody was gone--they were all at the match. And who wouldn't want to be? Gryffindor versus Slytherin. He was sure it would be an exciting game. There was always the possibility that Draco Malfoy would try to get Harry killed. 

He went to the window and watched the tiny players fly around for a while. He heard Lee Jordan shout out the score a few times; the last time he said, "Morton scores! Slytherin leads Gryffindor one hundred-seventy to ten. Even _if_ Potter catches the Snitch, Slytherin will win by ten points! Ooh!" he exclaimed. "Gryffindor's really taking a beating out there! It seems Fred Weasley really _is_ nothing without his twin!" 

Abruptly, George got to his feet. He couldn't stand it any longer-he was going to play. 

~ 

Wilma glanced down toward the center of the field and saw a boy standing there, holding his broomstick and screaming his head off. "Time!" she shouted, and flew to the ground after Madam Hooch had blown the whistle. Oliver Wood met up with her. "George, what the _devil_ do you think you're doing?!" 

"Thank God you're here, Weasley," Oliver said breathlessly--he had just come tearing down to the pitch upon seeing George. "Get on that broomstick and keep those Bludgers at bay!" 

"No!" Wilma protested. "Absolutely not! Who's the captain here, anyway?" 

"Under my rule, that team won the Quidditch Cup!" Oliver fought back. "What kind of captain are _you_ anyway, telling them it's okay to lose? If they think they can lose, they won't work. And if they don't work, you can say good-bye to that trophy!" 

Wilma could almost see the golden trophy fluttering away before her eyes. "All right! Fine! George, you're in! Tell Mendeleev he's out!" She shot a furious look in Oliver's direction before taking off again. 

Madam Hooch blew the whistle once again and play resumed. "Well, looks like George Weasley is back in the game!" Lee shouted. "And Gryffindor has control of the Quaffle! Johnson passes to Spinnet--Spinnet back to Johnson--Johnson scores! Nice one, Angelina! Sorry, Professor." 

"Try to be a little more unbiased in your commentary, Mr. Jordan," Professor McGonagall said. "This is your last warning--the next time I have to talk to you, I let Creevey replace you." 

"Yes, Professor," Lee said. When he turned around, he just barely caught Angelina scoring another goal. "Gryffindor scores again! If Potter catches the Snitch, Gryffindor will win. And he might do just that-Potter's seen the Snitch--he's diving! And there's Slytherin Seeker, Draco Malfoy, plummeting after him. Come on, Harry--er, and Draco." 

Suddenly, the crowd of Gryffindor's nearest Harry started screaming and cheering. "Potter's caught the Snitch, giving the win to Gryffindor by ten points!" Lee bellowed. 

George flew to the ground and ran toward Harry. He grabbed him and cried, "You always pull us through, Harry!" 

The rest of the team crowded blissfully around the Seeker and Oliver's screech of joy was heard echoing inside the walls of Hogwarts. 


	7. Chapter 7

The months passed quickly after that final game and before they knew it, the end of the year finals were swiftly approaching. George wasn't particularly worried about them; he never had been--not even in his first year. It seemed the opposite for most everyone else, however. 

Of course Katie was worried, as usual. She rubbed her aching head. "I don't know how I'm going to get through these finals this year," she said in a pained voice. 

"Look at it this way," George began, "this is the last year you have to take them. After that, no more pencils, no more books--" 

"No more teachers' dirty looks. I know." She gave him a look that said she had been trying not to think about that aspect of it. "I'm really going to miss you, George." 

"What are you talking about?" he asked. "We're still going to see each other. You're going to work with your father in Diagon Alley, aren't you?" 

Katie nodded. "That was the plan." She sighed. "Now my dad wants me to try my hand at professional Quidditch. Like _that_ could ever happen," she dismissed. 

"It could," George said, though he knew how difficult it was to get in. "I mean, if you wanted it enough." 

She shrugged. "I guess I don't really want that." 

He looked at her sympathetically. "Want a Canary Cream?" 

Katie almost took the yellow candy but pushed it away at the last minute. "No way, George, I know what you put in those things." 

He laughed. "Sorry, I couldn't resist." He stuffed the Cream back into his pocket. "You look like you need a laugh, that's all." 

Katie looked around the common room, and then back at George again. "So, what's happening with you and Hermione?" 

Once George got over the initial shock of the question, he replied, "Nothing. I haven't spoken to her for a long time. She seemed busy with Ron, anyway." 

"I'm sorry, George," she said. 

"You don't need to apologize," George told her rather cheerfully. "I'm completely happy with the way things turned out--I'm fine now. You don't need to pity me." 

"Hi, Katie, George." It was Hermione. She looked a bit flustered--probably because she had been in her dormitory studying for the past two months. "George, I just wanted to thank you again for helping me with Transfigurations. Professor McGonagall and I have both decided I shouldn't try to get ahead. She said she's sure I'm capable enough, but that it would be wiser to stay back. She also said she's afraid of overloading me with work--of course, I quite agree." She looked away. "Oh, dear, I'm rambling again. Sorry. And thanks again." Hermione quickly walked away. 

George looked after her until she disappeared out the portrait hole. When he turned back to Katie, she was grinning slyly at him. "I think she still likes you," she said, hitting his shoulder lightly. "Did you hear her? She sounded really nervous." 

"Wonder why," George said dazedly. "We _are_ just friends. I think." 

Katie nodded and looked at her watch. "Do you want to go get dinner? Otherwise we've got a few hours until the dining hall closes." 

"No." George stood up. "Let's go now. I want to get filled up, because I might have to forfeit my breakfast tomorrow. I can see myself needing to do some last minute studying for the Defense Against the Dark Arts final." 

They made their way down to the Great Hall and sat down at the Gryffindor table. George happened to glance down the row towards the head table. Ron was there and Hermione was sitting across from him. She looked furious, but she knew enough to keep her voice down (unfortunately for George). Ron seemed to be attempting to calm her down, but it wasn't working. Hermione had reached her breaking point and she promptly stood up. Haughtily and swiftly, she walked down the aisle and left. George looked back at Ron, who merely glared at him. Then George (perhaps a bit unwisely) gave his brother an unconvincing look of mock sympathy--though what he really wanted to do was go over there and kick him in the stomach for whatever he didn't to Hermione. 

"What was that all about?" Katie asked. Clearly she had also been witness to the quarrel. "Maybe you should go and talk to her. I'd suggest that you speak with Ron, but Harry's already taking care of that." 

"No," George replied quickly. "I'm not going to get involved with their..._relationship_." He said the word as if he were picking something disgusting off of his shoe. 

"George," she said disapprovingly. "No. The last time I got involved with Hermione, she broke my heart--she only needs to do that once. It's still in bandages, practically! I'm required to change the dressings twice a week." He sighed. 

"George, if I was Hermione, I'd want someone as kind as you to talk to me," Katie said. 

"Okay, fine," George agreed. "I'll go and talk to her. But if I make her more upset, I'm blaming it on you." 

~ 

George knocked on the bathroom door, Moaning Myrtle's bathroom door. He didn't want to go in there, but he had checked just about every other place, and he had remembered the trio's frequent visits to the bathroom three years ago. "Hermione? Uh, Myrtle?" Slowly, he stepped inside. "Hello?" 

"What are _you_ doing in here?" Moaning Myrtle asked, floating out from one of the cubicles. "This is a _girls'_ lavatory--can't you read?" 

"No, I never learned," George answered sarcastically. When she didn't laugh or even crack a smile, he clarified, "That was a joke. I _do_ know how to read. Very well, actually." If he ever spoke to Myrtle again, he would have to make a point of not trying to be funny. "Is Hermione here? Or did she happen to pass through here?" 

"How would _I_ know?" Myrtle demanded. "I've just been sitting in the u-bend. Even if she _had_ come in here, I wouldn't have heard her. Besides, that Hermione Granger always teased me." 

"I'm sure she didn't mean to hurt your feelings." George opened the door. "Thanks, Myrtle...I guess." He walked out. Where could she be? He'd looked everywhere. Except outside, but he doubted she would go out there. Unless...unless she went to see Hagrid. That's where Hermione went, he thought to himself as he rushed over the school grounds. The firelight from Hagrid's hut and the moon provided enough light for George to see where he was going. 

Unfortunately, that was not enough light for Hermione, who was in such a hurry that she hadn't thought about using her wand, and she barreled right into him. "Lumos!" she cried, whipping out her wand. Her eyes widened and she abruptly stopped trying to stand up. "George! What are you doing out here?" 

"Looking for you," he replied, wiping his wet hands on his trousers. "Are you all right? I saw you run out of the Great Hall--I was just a little concerned." 

She smiled. "That's sweet, George. I'm fine now." 

George offered her his hand and they pulled each other up. And much to his surprise and delight, Hermione didn't let go. "I'm lucky to have a friend like you," she said. 

Suddenly, she stopped and George felt her lips on his own. He couldn't have stopped it even if he had wanted to because it was over as quickly as it had begun. She started once again for the castle. 

"Hermione." She turned around. "I don't understand. Are you trying to kill me?" 

"What do you mean?" she questioned. 

George sighed. "What was that kiss for?" 

Abruptly, she covered her face with her hands. "Oh, I _knew_ I shouldn't have done that! Everything inside me was telling me not to and I went against it! Ooh, sometimes I can be such an idiot! I'm sorry--just forget we even ran into each other!" 

Hermione ran towards the castle again and George was unable to stop her until they were just outside the doors. "I just think you should resolve this thing with my brother before you throw yourself at me. After that, I'd be delighted if you chose to throw yourself at me," George said, trying to catch his breath. 

Though tears were slowly dripping off of her chin, she began to laugh. "Only _you_ could make something like this seem funny." 

"This is certainly _not funny_, Miss Granger." 

Hermione whirled around, surprised. "Professor Snape, we were just--" 

"Don't make excuses," Snape said sharply. "You are both in very serious trouble." 

"It was my fault, Professor," George lied as they walked quickly down the corridor back to Gryffindor Tower. "I forced Hermione to come outside to discuss our secret plan to dominate the world. See, I'd like to take over the whole galaxy at once--kill two birds with one stone, if you follow me." 

"Don't be cheeky, Mr. Weasley." Snape halted outside the entrance to the Gryffindors' common room. "You will both have detention with me tomorrow night. If you are late, I will give you detention again. Is that clear? And Weasley, do not underestimate my power in this school. I would like nothing better than to have you out of my sight, but if it is necessary, I will keep you here _well_ into the summer holidays." He stalked off down the corridor. 

"Jelly bird," Hermione muttered the password and stepped inside. "I'm sorry, George. If I hadn't left, you wouldn't have gone looking for me, and you wouldn't have gotten detention." 

George shrugged. "I've had detention loads of times; I'll be fine. It's you I'm worried about." 

"It's only detention...Well, good-night." She hurried up the stairs to her dormitory. He sat down on the couch and suddenly the portrait swung open. George watched for the entrant, but no one was there. He flinched when Ron materialized from beneath the Invisibility Cloak. "Ron," George said, catching his younger brother's attention, though truthfully, he already had it. "What were you doing with Harry's cloak?" 

Ron shrugged. "I have a better question: what were _you_ doing with _my_ girlfriend?" Not giving him the time to reply, Ron punched his brother in the face with all the strength he could muster. 

George, who was now sprawled out on the floor, cracked his jaw and wiped the blood from his lip. "Ron, you should never hit a man when he's down." He pulled himself up and managed to duck out of the way when another fist came flying at him. "Ron!" 

"Come on, I can take you," Ron jeered, his fists at the ready. "Let's go!" 

"Ron, I don't want to hurt you," George said, pulling out his wand. 

"_Expelliarmus!_" Ron said. He dropped George's wand at his side. "No wands, George." He jumped at his older brother and pinned him to the ground (though not for long, because George was two years older than him). "Sorry, Ron," George said, punching him. "I didn't want to hit you." 

Defeated and bleeding badly from his mouth and nose, Ron dragged himself up the steps. Before he entered his dormitory, he said bitterly, "What a surprise, George, I always get everything second-hand, and now finally you are." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" George demanded. "Hermione isn't a _commodity_, she's a person." 

"Ugh," Ron grunted. "Please," and stumbled into his room. 

George sighed. "What a wonderful year it's been." 


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: All right, that took longer than I had expected. I've been busy though--finals for me is next week and my teachers have been loading me up with homework. But here's the final chapter. Enjoy! And thanks to the reviewers.** 

"Once again, another year has passed," Dumbledore began, his voice oddly magnified in the hall. "Your tests, I am told, went exceptionally well--of which I'm sure you are all very grateful for. Now, if you please, I would like to announce the winners of this year's House and Quidditch Cups." He paused to look around at the anxious students. "The House Cup--once again--goes to Gryffindor House!" A raucous cheer reverberated in the hall. "And the Quidditch Cup goes to Slytherin House!" A series of jeers erupted from the Gryffindor table. Dumbledore held up his hands to silence the students. "I don't want to take up any more of your time with my talking. Besides that, I'm rather hungry. I look forward to seeing you all next year." 

With a wave of his hands, hundreds of plates appeared on the tables and each goblet was filled to the brim with pumpkin juice. George gulped down his greedily to the puzzled looks of his peers. "What?" he asked. 

Katie and the others shrugged, but she continued to stare at him while they went on eating. "Hey, George, do you want to come stay with me for a while this summer? My dad says he can get you a job if you want one." She looked at him hopefully. 

"Hm." He put down the golden goblet. "An interesting proposal. But I don't know how much Mum would like that." He cleared his throat. " 'George, I don't like that at all. Staying with a _girl_. Now, Katie's a sweet girl, I know, but I can't say I approve of that,'" he said, imitating his mother. 

She smiled. "That's okay. I was just...throwing it out there." She was silent for a moment, and then she looked up. "You don't have to stay with me, you could stay in Diagon Alley--or Apparate!" 

"I do need the money," George said thoughtfully. 

"What's all this about money?" Fred asked, barging in on the conversation. 

"Katie's trying to get me a job with her dad," George replied. He looked around the Great Hall and spotted Oliver Wood sneaking out with some girl. He was probably still feeling a little guilty for barging in on Wilma's decisions. But when he looked harder, he realized the girl Wood was with _was_ Wilma. He shook his head and chuckled to himself. 

"A job?" Fred repeated. "Who needs a job when you can board Harry Potter at your house?" They laughed. "Do you know how much he would pay to stay with us? Galleons upon galleons. Think of all that gold," he said dreamily. 

"Yes, I can just see it flying out the window to buy Ginny a high speed racing broomstick," George added. 

"You had to shatter my dreams, didn't you?" Fred asked in mock sadness. 

Katie smiled. "It was inevitable." 

George glanced at Hermione. It did seem like dreams were meant to be broken. She looked happy, anyway, laughing with Harry and Ron. They would probably have a compartment to their selves on the train. George wasn't sure if he felt comfortable approaching either Hermione or Ron. Their argument had never really been resolved. Ron ignored him when he tried to apologize or even _speak_ to him. 

"George?" Katie questioned, interrupting his thoughts. "What are you thinking about?" 

"Hermione," he answered quietly. 

Katie sighed. "Why don't you just forget about her? She's playing you for a fool as it is." She tried to make eye contact with him. "After today you never have to see her again." 

He nodded. "I know. I know that." He was startled as Hermione, Harry, and Ron abruptly rose from the table and walked past him. Harry and Hermione smiled, while Ron simply glared at him. George didn't bother to apologize, though. He was sick of his words falling on deaf ears. It was odd that Ron had been sneaking around in the Invisibility Cloak long enough to see them kissing, but not long enough to see that _Hermione_ had been the instigator. George sighed. He knew he'd get back on terms with his brother. Eventually. 

~ 

"I'll send you an owl with my dad's answer, okay? As soon as I get home, I'll ask him." 

"Yeah, okay," George replied. 

Katie hugged him tightly. "If you ever need anyone to talk to, I'm always here," she said. George thought she sounded a bit odd, and when she pulled away, he saw that she was crying. 

He smiled at her, raising an eyebrow. "So you _are_ just all soft in there?" he teased. 

She dried her eyes roughly with the back of her hand. "Shut up. I don't...usually get this choked up about things." 

"Katie! Over here, Kate!" 

George turned around and spotted a pair wizards rushing toward her. "Those are your parents?" 

Katie nodded and said, "Mum, Dad, this is George Weasley. We've been on the same Quidditch team for six years now." She stood there beaming as they all shook hands. "Well, we'd better go. Bye, George." 

She started to walk away, but he went after her. "Katie." He caught her hand and kissed her cheek softly. "See you soon." 

Katie nodded. "Yeah, see you." 

He stared after her and waited for his parents. When Hermione came up beside him, he turned to look at her. "George, we're all right, aren't we?" 

"Yeah," he agreed. "We're all right." He took a deep breath. "Hermione, will I see you again?" 

She turned away from her parents who were quickly approaching. "I hope so, George." And with that, she was gone. 

He took out a piece of parchment and picked up a pen off the ground. After licking the end to start the ink flowing again, he knelt down on the pavement and wrote the words: Job/joke shop in Diagon Alley next year--Hermione. DON'T FORGET HER. Smiling, he stuffed the paper into his pocket and ran to catch up with the rest of his family. 

THE END 


End file.
